weed kill

So.  Dandelions.

They're trying to kill me.

I would guestimate we have somewhere between 103-206 in our yard.  Let's just say 146.

146 dandelions growing happily in our sunny yard.  I decided a few days ago, "Those dandelions are WEEDS!  They have go to go."  Dangerously armed with a sprayable jug of WEED POSION, I set out to murder them, one by one.

Being the giant that I am, I didn't want to just stand there and spray from 5' up, allowing the wind to blow the POISON all over the universe.  I wanted instant kill too, so I crouched down and drenched each happy yellow flower (WEED) with poison.  Crouch, spray, stand, repeat.  Crouch, spray, stand, repeat.  One Hundred and Fourty SIX times, give or take a few.

Now, a few days later,  I am dieing.  I am walking (shuffling) like an eighty year old arthritic grandma.  And that's totally rotten because I'm only 30ish.  Ok, fine, LATE 30ish.

I didn't even know there was a muscle on the back of my skinny thighs!  Apparently there is.  I know this because said muscle is screaming in agony (not unlike the sunny yellow dandelions where while they guzzled poison, but that's beside the point.)

My legs are on their last leg (no pun intended. No, really, they're dieing.)  I may never walk again.

Farewell my friends.  I think it would be fitting if you placed yellow dandelions on my casket.